Of Lion and Serpent
by Fire From The Ashes
Summary: AU. The Sorting Hat knew it was breaking the rules when it put Fred Weasley in Slytherin, but everyone deserved a fighting chance, even Slytherin. The lines drawn in the sand are shifting, and rules have only one purpose: to be broken. HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**Of** **Lion** **and** **Serpent**

Prologue

_Red and green, Gryffindor and Slytherin, are opposites in every way. As colours, they are said to complement each other, but when it comes to people, they are enemies. If you are one, you must turn away from every part of you that is another. To a Gryffindor, the term Slytherin is an insult, and vice versa. Yet, we only know a few of each, and we base our decision on those. This is the Alternate Universe story of two brothers who are split apart, one to each house, and told to hate each other. But, really, how different are they? _

_The Weasleys are a family firmly on the light side of the war. Not only has there never been one to join the Death Eaters, there was never even one to be a Slytherin. The Weasleys are as firmly red as their hair. But what if one, just one, was sorted into Slytherin? How big an effect would that have? You may say that it would never happen, but what if it did? Two brothers, as similar as brothers can be, are just slightly different, and that is the small thing that makes all the difference. _

"Fred."

"George"

"This is going…"

"…to be a very…"

"…good year.."

"..for pranks!"

They finished their sentence together, to the amusement of the boy who was standing just outside their compartment. Lee, as his name was, knocked quickly and opened the door. Inside, there were two red haired boys who were identical to the last strand of hair that hung over their freckled faces.

"Can I sit here?" asked Lee.

"Well…" began one of them.

"we don't see why not…." the other continued.

"but it's at your own risk!" finished the first one.

Lee sat down near the door, and looked at the twins.

"So, who are you guys?" He asked, by way of greeting.

"Fred and George Weasley" replied the one on his left.

"I'm Lee Jordan. And I tell you two apart by…?" asked Lee with a slight grin.

"Standing on your head and farting out canaries" replied the one on the right.

The twins cracked identical grins, and then told him that it was impossible, and that even their own mother mixed them up. However, their baby sister had a knack for figuring it out quite quickly and they didn't know how she did it.

The three talked for the rest of the train ride, and by the time they got to Hogwarts they were good friends, or, as they put it, "partners in crime". However, when they got out of the train, Lee noticed that one was snickering and the other was hiding a grin.

"What?" he asked.

"Just remembering something." Replied one of them, who was actually Fred.

Guessing that it was an inside joke, Lee kept walking, and didn't notice George lean towards Fred and whisper in his ear.

"Fred, my dear brother, I thought we didn't prank our friends."

"Well, he wasn't when he first sat down, was he?"

George wasn't so sure of the logic of this, but he still grinned with Fred and they both hurried to catch up with Lee, who was following the huge man who was shouting for "firs' years". Well, it _was_ funny, anyways, for someone to have a note reading "Kick me. Aim here!" on their ass, and what Fred said _was_ true. Meanwhile, Fred was thinking something similar and deciding that Lee was now considered a partner in crime, and was immune to their pranks.

"So, what do you guys know about this hellhole of books and teachers?" asked Lee as soon as they reached him.

"Well," replied George, "There are secret passages, hidden rooms, moving staircases, trick stairs, and even fake doors…."

"…not to mention all the pranking opportunities!" finished Fred. The three of them grinned and started quietly planning pranks. They quickly came to a decision, and traded a few objects for the other person's use. George quietly snagged the note off Lee and stuck it on the nearest student, then pointed it out to his twin and his new friend. They snickered and hurried to the front of the group. Ahead, they saw a cluster of boats floating at the edge of a huge, dark lake. Quickly grabbing a boat for themselves, they chucked an item called a "stink-bomb" that belonged to Lee into the nearest boat, resulting in an entertaining argument over who had farted. As they got out of their boat, they moved carefully towards the group of their latest victims.

"Oh, jeez!" exclaimed Lee, doing a perfect choking act.

"Yeah, what's that bloody smell?" demanded Fred.

"Hey, did one of you guys fart, 'cuz it smells like rotten food of some sort!" demanded George, turning to the unsuspecting victims of the moment.

All four of them started talking at once, and continued to do so after the trio hurried off. The first years walked up to the gigantic door of the castle, which was opened by a strict looking woman who had her lips pressed together. Fred flashed her an innocent smile and asked her if she had something in her teeth, and was about to offer her a toothpick and tell her that it worked better than trying to suck it out, when he saw her glare. By that time, though, the innocent smile was gone and all three of them were hiding grins.

"I'll take them from here, Hagrid. Everyone inside." The woman demanded in a crisp voice that echoed in the entrance hall. They followed her through the entrance hall and towards a set of large, wooden doors that clearly held the Great Hall that Charlie had told them about, as the noise seemed to come from there. The woman who had opened the door introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and proceeded to tell them about the house system at Hogwarts.

"There are four houses at Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff. While you are here, your house is like your family, and you will respect it as such. For good work, you will gain your house points, and you will lose your house points for any misbehavior. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the house cup. I hope that each of you will be a credit to your house. Now, form a line, and I will see if they are ready for you."

As they formed a line, Professor McGonagall entered the Hall and came out again quite soon after. She told them to follow her, and, when they did, they saw one of the most amazing sights they had ever seen. Through those doors, there was the biggest hall any of them had ever seen, even bigger than the entrance hall, with four long tables surrounded by students wearing black robes. Over these tables, and throughout the room, thousands of lit candles floated in mid-air, lighting the room. Each table was set with golden plates and goblets, not yet holding any food or drink. At the front, there was a raised platform with a smaller table with a group of adults that were presumably the teachers along the side opposite them. But none of this was what made the room so special. The ceiling was dark blue and covered in stars, exactly matching the sky outside, and smoothly blending into the walls and arches of the room. This ceiling was charmed to match to sky outside, no matter what happened.

At the front of the room, there sat a small wooden stool, with a dirty old wizard's hat, looking strangely out of place. Suddenly, the rip in the hat opened and it began to sing. It sang of the four houses and the founders and the Sorting. When it fell silent, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and looked at her list. The room fell silent, and the Sorting began.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Oops, I forgot to do this last time. I own nothing, don't sue me.

Chapter 2

"Collins, Simon!" called Professor McGonagall.

A nervous looking boy with sandy hair walked towards the hat, and was motioned to sit down on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on his head and everyone seemed to be waiting for something. After about thirty seconds, the had opened it's mouth again.

"Gryffindor!" it cried.

Simon looked relieved and walked over to the Gryffindor table to loud cheers and clapping. The Sorting continued, taking as little as a few seconds to well over a minute to sort the students.

"Johnson, Angelina" became a Gryffindor, and then it was Lee's turn.

"Jordan, Lee!"

The twins' new friend walked towards the hat, dread locks shaking slightly, but showing no other signs of nervousness. The hat took slightly longer than average, but soon shouted out his fate.

"Gryffindor!"

Both twins breathed a sigh of relief as "Montague, Lance" became a Slytherin. This was pretty much a guarantee that they would stay together. No Weasley had ever been anything except a Gryffindor.

"Weasley, Fred!"

Nodding at Lee and cuffing George lightly on the arm, Fred walked confidently to the stool and sat down. He caught a glimpse of his friends smiling slightly, confident that they would all be in the same place.

"Difficult," said the hat in his ear, "You seem to fit in many places."

"Put me in Gryffindor, then," replied Fred in his head, "I belong there."

"Gryffindor? I don't know. You are smart enough to be a Ravenclaw, but your intelligence is not their type, and you would not do well there. You are loyal enough to your friends to be a Hufflepuff, but you do not enjoy hard work, so you would be held back, there. That leaves Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"Slytherin?" thought Fred, rather shocked, "Put me in Gryffindor. If you put me in Slytherin, I'll turn you into a pair of underpants and give you to Snape!" he finished in a panic.

"Not bad. I've heard far weaker threats." chuckled the hat, "in fact, that was rather…"

"Slytherin!" cried the hat.

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George was starting to worry. His brother was taking quite a while to be sorted. He hadn't seen the hat take that long, yet. Still, his brother couldn't be anything but a Gryffindor.

"Slytherin!"

George stumbled on the spot. He looked and saw his equally shocked looking brother stumbling out from under that hat. He looked for Lee, and found him gaping like a fish out of water. Both Gryffindor Weasleys wore similar expressions. That couldn't be. This was a dream. It was all a bad dream that was fooling him to make him panic. He would wake up, and Mum would yell at him that he was going to be late. The only sad thing was that Lee wasn't real. That was a pity. He quickly pinched himself, wanting to wake up from this bad dream as quickly as possible, but he instead yelped in pain. No dream?

"George Weasley!" called Professor McGonagall, "We're waiting."

George numbly walked to the stool and sat down. He didn't know where he belonged, between his two brothers and his new friend, or his twin and other half.

"Well, what have we here?" said the hat in his ear.

"George Weasley, nice to meet you," he replied dully, "Where do I belong?"

"You are a lot like the last one I sorted. Your twin, was he?" asked the hat. "You're also a lot like the one I sorted earlier, Jordan, but where to put you?"

"Why the hell are you asking me?" asked George, without any real venom. "I have to choose between most of my family and my new friend, and my twin brother. No matter what you do, you split me from someone. Ok, George, breathe."

"Well, you are a lot like your brother in the fact that you could fit almost anywhere, but you would not shine in either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. But, unlike your brother, you are slightly more bravery and friendship than cunning and ambition. Both of you are very close to the borderline. I don't normally give advice, but you two could be the deciding factor that Godric told me about, so pay attention."

"Wait, do you mean Godric Gryffindor?" asked George, pulled out of his daze by the familiar name.

"The one and only. He was the one who owned me, and then gave me the ability to sort you. He told me that his best friend, Salazar Slytherin, was drifting away and that there was a line between the houses that few dared to cross and that someone would need to bridge them, and I think that you two are the ones. All I can tell you is that both family and friends must stick together, but that the houses are not really so different as they seem. You belong in his house, in…."

"Gryffindor!" cried the hat.

George walked to Lee, not failing to notice the dull, pained look in Fred's eye. How different could his brother be? What did it mean that he was more ambition and cunning than bravery and friendship? Had someone really fooled him for eleven years?

"George, wake up!" Lee practically yelled in his ear, "What happened back there?"

"I don't know. I thought Fred was the exact same as me, if only slightly different in sense of humor. I don't see what made one of us go one way and one of us go the other. I just don't get it!" replied George in a pained voice, not having the energy for anything more than the truth.

Lee looked sad for a moment, and then tried to put on a cheerful face for his friend.

"Don't worry, things will turn out. Now, though, is the best time for pranks, since nobody knows who we are!" he laughed, but his heart wasn't in it. They planted a balloon in the mashed potatoes, making it explode when someone accidentally punctured it with a fork, but nothing seemed to raise their mood. Neither saw Fred looking wistfully over at the Gryffindor table, wishing more than anything for him to be there, laughing and playing pranks, or even to be able to cheer his brother up. He saw the odd looks that Charlie and Percy threw him, and noted that George and Lee were both laughing, not noticing that their hearts weren't in it. He felt more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

When the plates were cleared away and everyone was following the prefects to the dormitories, Fred finally caught George's eye and read confusion, despair, and hurt in there. Fred knew that George was reading similar things in his on eye. Lee was smiling in a slightly forced manner in an attempt to cheer up George, but his eyes held a mix of sympathy and anger for hurting them for Fred, and general confusion at the whole situation. Watching, their retreating backs, Fred nearly walked into a wall he was so immersed in his own thoughts.

George knew Lee was trying to help cheer him up, but all he wanted was to be left alone, to be able to think. Lee was a good friend, and he was likely to be their friend for life. Wait, why did he keep thinking of himself and Fred as a unit? Well, he thought, it shouldn't be much of a surprise, since they had been considered as such for most of their lives, and he had seen Fred as his other half for as long as he could remember. They were a package deal in anything they got into, and rarely disagreeing on anything. I thought I knew what he was thinking at the same time he thought of it, and vice versa, but apparently I didn't, he though dully. The "Wonder Twins", the "Dynamic Duo" was split. He didn't know Fred, he though as he slumped on his new bed, only stopping to take off his shoes, even before the sorting, he didn't realize what Fred was planning to stick on Lee.

But, unbidden, the sorting hat's words that the had tried to tune out, since they were too much to bear on top of everything else, came to the fore of his mind. No, he and Fred were just a pair of jokers, never to be a catalyst that had been foreseen by Godric Gryffindor himself. Why would anyone want to unite the houses, with all the evil wizards in Slytherin? But, a voice in his head chimed in, what about Fred? He's still the same guy he was before the sorting, so why do you hate him now, it asked. No, he isn't, tried George lamely, but he knew he couldn't win when he was fighting himself, and he tuned the voice out and tried to fall asleep, but the voice asked him one last question, as his mental defenses fell to the call of sleep.

What is really so different about him, despite the fact that he is a Slytherin?

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A few hundred feet down, in the dungeons of the school, Fred Weasley was having a similar argument with himself. Why? Why him? What made him so different that he was made a Slytherin? What had he done wrong? The answer came to him, in the form of the threat he made to the hat.

"_Slytherin?" though Fred, "Put me in Gryffindor. If you put me in Slytherin, I'll turn you into a pair of underpants and give you to Snape!" he finished in a panic._

"_Not bad. I've heard far weaker threats." Chuckled the hat, "in fact, that was rather…"_

"_Slytherin!" cried the hat. _

Fred groaned. Why couldn't he have just let the hat do its bloody job, and not made that damned threat. It was entirely his fault that George and Lee hated him, and he couldn't do a damn thing to make it right.

"Weasley, you get some sleep!" called a voice from the door leading to the Slytherin boys' dormitories. Fred turned in his chair, trying not to look at the hated green and silver decorations, and saw a boy in his year with dark hair and tanned skin looking out at him.

'Fine, thanks. Pucey, right?" he asked, deciding that he could at least learn some names.

"Yeah, and I've got some advice for you. You don't want to be associating with Gryffindors, no matter if they are your twin, because Slytherin has a reputation to keep, and you don't want to face the wrath of the entire house." Stated Pucey, without any real threat, but with no real softness, either. He was merely stating the facts.

"Ok, thanks." Replied Fred, secretly deciding to read up on hexes.

Pucey left, and Fred was left alone with his thoughts. George was worth it, he decided, and he would try to make amends. The least he could do was explain. The next day was no good, since he needed it to learn enough spells to defend himself, but the day after was a good choice, even if it meant that they would have to be uncertain for another day. Realizing that he was thinking like a Slytherin, Fred shook his head and headed to bed. Perhaps, he would wake up and find it was all a bad dream. Yeah, when Salazar Slytherin shits out a second Hogwarts just for muggleborns, and teaches them to defend themselves against purebloods, then he might be so lucky, he thought in disgust. Well, it was a hope he could at least hold onto for a few hours, until he fell asleep. He collapsed on his bed, thinking that it was all a dream, and that he was going to wake up in The Burrow, any second, and that George would be throwing a bucket of ice water over him because he slept in. With those happy thoughts, he drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

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Back in the Gryffindor tower, Percy Weasley was cursing Fred for giving the Weasleys a bad name. With a Slytherin in them, they were less likely to be seen as a purely light family, and it was all Fred's fault. He didn't see how Fred could be a Slytherin while George could be a Gryffindor, as they had always hatched their schemes together. Their very Slytherin schemes, he thought, angrily. George must have tricked the hat, he decided, not realizing that much of this was due to the fact that the twins had teased him so much. At thirteen years old, he felt only anger and disdain towards the twins, because they were the black mark on his family's name.

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Elsewhere in the Gryffindor Tower, Charlie Weasley was wondering what went wrong, not with the twins, but with the hat. The twins were good kids, he thought, if a bit crazy, but they certainly weren't evil. He just hoped that the mistake that the hat had made could be corrected, before they were split apart, and before Fred was changed for the worse. Slytherins may be dark, he decided, but Fred isn't. He made a mental note to watch for changes in Fred, and for signs of depression in George, then promptly forgot his mental note as he fell asleep.

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Back in the dungeons, Lance Montague was proudly thinking of how he had upheld his family tradition and honor in getting into Slytherin. The hat had taken barely a second to decide, and it had made the right choice. He was in Slytherin, the house of ambition and cunning, not in any of those weak, foolish houses full of mudbloods and blood traitors. He wasn't a reckless Gryffindor, a plain and stupid Hufflepuff, or a bookish Ravenclaw who lacked the kind of sense that counted, and he was surrounded by good, pureblood families, with the exception of that Weasley fool who didn't properly appreciate the second chance he had been given by being placed in Slytherin. His father would be proud of him, and all he had to worry about was how to bring the rest of the year under his influence in a subtle way.

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Adrian Pucey lay awake, feeling confused. He was a member of a good pureblood family with a long history of Slytherins and powerful members, but the hat had taken longer than it should have. The bloody hat had considered both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor as good choices for him, until he had talked some sense into it. However, the fact that he was considered for Gryffindor was deeply disturbing, more so than Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw was full of intelligent people who were of the book-smart variety instead of the cunning Slytherin variety, but Gryffindor was full of brash, reckless people who had no idea of subtlety. At least he wasn't considered for Hufflepuff, the house of people who worked hard instead of finding the better way, specifically a shortcut. His parents would be glad he was a Slytherin, and he wasn't stupid enough to tell them the rest of the story. They would just berate him for almost getting himself placed amongst all the "mudbloods" and blood traitors. He didn't see how Weasley had managed to be a Slytherin, but he guessed that he had it in him, somehow. The guy was alone in Slytherin, and he needed someone to show him a few ropes, soAdrian had helped him and gained himself an ally, too.Besides, the guy wasn't so bad, considering where he had grown up, right?

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Back at The Burrow, Molly and Arthur Weasley were thinking of all the fun the twins would be having in Gryffindor, and wondering if Percy would ever manage to keep them under control. No, he probably wouldn't, but they had bigger things to worry about. Ginny was outgrowing the age where she would willingly wear dresses, wanting to wear pants, so she needed new clothes that Molly would have to sew. Ron was getting temperamental at the age of nine, and was fighting with his sister. And they were short on cash, having just spent all sorts of money on school supplies for the four kids who were now going to school. The children's sorting was the least of their issues, since no Weasley would ever be anything except a Gryffindor.

End Chapter

Please Review. I need to know if I screwed up, or if it was good.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Fred woke up, worried that he had slept in and was going to be late for the train. He was surprised that George hadn't taken the opportunity to wake him in a creative way. He pulled aside the silver and green curtains of his bed and put his foot on the stone floor.

Wait, this was all wrong. His bed didn't have curtains, and they were certainly not silver and green, and the floor should be wood, not cold, gray stone. It was all wrong.

The previous day's came flooding back to him. He let out a groan, and sat back down with a thump. He lay back down and pulled the pillow over his head. He heard voices, but he refused to listen to them. If he could make them go away, it would all go away, and he wouldn't have to face the day.

Suddenly, the pillow was ripped out of his hands and thrown to the foot of the bed, and the curtains were pulled back. Pucey, as he remembered the guy's name was, told him bluntly that he was going to be late for breakfast, and then left. Fred dragged himself out of bed, and went to brush his teeth and hair. He hurried to the table and sat down, eating fast to avoid sitting with these Slytherins for longer than necessary, watching the people at the table while he was at it. Pucey was talking to a few Slytherins about the timetable that he had just gotten, and was comparing, but he didn't seem to be too bad. He didn't seem to be the evil snake that many Slytherins seemed to be.

Further down the table, there was a Slytherin that Fred recognized as "Montague, Lance". Montague looked like a stuck-up aristocrat, with his dark hair and high cheekbones, but his face was twisted into a scowl, and he was watching people like a predator waiting for prey to reveal itself. He was also very large, both fat and muscular, and his arms and neck looked like hairy hams.

To Fred's left, there was a Slytherin that looked like he was part troll. He was clearly a Quidditch captain, since he was talking to someone about Quidditch plays, and giving them instructions, but he didn't seem too intelligent. The guy he was talking to was calling him "Flint", and someone else referred to him as "Marcus". Assuming Marcus was his first name, he was called Marcus Flint, Fred thought with a hint of sarcasm.

Fred continued looking at the Slytherins and learning what he could, until someone dropped a timetable in front of him, nearly in his food. He looked up, and saw Professor Snape handing out the timetables.

"Thank you, Professor," he acknowledged politely, and checked his timetable. He had Double Potions with Gryffindor first thing, which was sure to be hell, and then he had Herbology and Charms after lunch. Fred noticed that Gryffindors and Ravenclaws seemed to be the partners of choice for pairing Slytherins with, and decided that this was really not his day. On the other hand, the Slytherins would probably have the Hufflepuffs for snack, so it was wise not to place them together. He grabbed his stuff, and ran for the library, not noticing the looks that George and Lee were giving him for avoiding them.

George woke up and immediately sensed that something was wrong. Firstly, he was at Hogwarts, but he had been woken up by Lee instead of Fred. Secondly, he didn't see Fred anywhere in the dormitory. In fact, there were only two other people in the dormitory other than Lee and himself, and they were a pale, skinny brown haired guy, and a thin, sandy haired guy. Thirdly, there were no early morning pranks, loud noises, or other signs of Fred, or even a fifth bed. Fred wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Lee, where's Fred?" George asked, now thoroughly confused. Lee waited until the other two boys were out the door, and then turned to face him.

"George, do you remember what happened yesterday?" Lee asked, with a look that said he was bracing himself for an explosion, but was still concerned.

"Yeah, I remember it, so where's Fred?" In all honesty, he didn't really, but he wasn't thinking about that. Had something happened to Fred? Why wasn't he here?

"Tell me what you remember, starting on the train." Lee instructed him, making him wonder what was going on. He was now slightly scared, even if he would never admit it. And that dazed feeling wasn't helping any.

"Well, we got on the train and found ourselves a compartment. We slipped a few dungbombs into a few passing people's bags, and then sat down. You came in shortly after and sat down on a "kick me" sign that Fred had slipped there, and it stuck to you. You aren't mad about that, are you?" George asked.

"No, I'm not mad. It was a joke," Lee replied honestly. "Keep going."

"Well, I stuck the note on someone else, and then we got into those boats, and threw a stink-bomb into another boat. We went inside, and Fred teased McGonagall, and then McGonagall lined us up for Sorting. We listened to the Sorting Hat's song, then McGonagall called us up in alphabetical order. You became a Gryffindor, and we knew we'd all be in the same house because no Weasley would ever be…" George trailed off as the rest of the night came flooding back to him, like a tidal wave of reality, and washed away the illusion leaving only the bare, painful truth.

Lee sighed. "I'm just as confused about that as you are."

"No, you're not. The sorting hat told me something else, besides where I belonged. It told me I was like you and Fred, but it also mentioned something that it had been told by Godric Gryffindor, and told me that we were supposed to be involved in it. We, meaning Fred and me," replied George, tiredly. "Something about a 'catalyst' to unite the houses and bridge the gaps between them, and how Godric told him that his friend Slytherin was drifting away. It's all a mess."

"So, basically, you and Fred are supposed to bridge the gap between Slytherin and the other houses, and make us all get along?" Lee demanded incredulously. "Couldn't it have just asked you to take over from Santa Clause and make your rounds without magic?"

"Huh? Who the bloody hell is Santa Clause?" asked George, confused again.

"Never mind. Look, I say we give Fred a chance, okay? I don't like this Slytherin business, either, but perhaps he said something to the hat to affect the outcome, so the least we can do is give him a chance to explain."

"Yeah, I guess," George replied tiredly. This had taken a lot out of him.

"What do you say we wreak some havoc?" Lee suggested with a grin, in an attempt to cheer George up. The quickly planned, then put their plan into action. Kenneth Towler and Simon Collins were both rather shocked to find their underwear flashing different colours, visible even through their robes. They were so surprised, in fact, that they didn't notice the fact that their faces were covered in lipstick in the shape of lip prints until after breakfast.

"Where'd you learn that one, Lee?" asked a finally grinning George. The flashing underwear had been Lee's idea, while the lipstick was George's.  
"Oh, here and there…" avoided Lee, until a spoonful of porridge hit him in the eye.

However, the mood was dampened when Fred hurried out of the Great Hall without even trying to talk to them.

Fred was checking out a small pile of books on hexes when he saw Lee and George walking into the library talking and clearly planning something. All three of them stopped in their tracks and stared at the other. George had a look of pain in his eye, and Fred knew it wasn't physical pain, while Lee just looked confused, hurt, and possibly slightly hopeful for a resolution. Fred knew there was a very pained and apologetic look in his eye, that would probably match the look in George's but he couldn't let either of them be seen talking to the other.

When George took a step towards him, he ran, taking his books and running as fast as he could towards the fresh air. This choking feeling had to be because the air was too stuffy in the library, and he just needed fresh air. But when he got outside and found himself safely alone, he felt himself shaking and wanting nothing more than to lie down and sob like a small child, but he held it back, since a Slytherin crying was even more vulnerable than a Slytherin talking to a Gryffindor.

He was a Slytherin, and he couldn't talk to his own brother.

When Fred ran out of the library, the sight tore through George like a knife through paper. He had seen the pained, apologetic look in his brother's eye, and he couldn't do anything to help because his brother didn't want his help. He would have sat down on the spot if Lee hadn't hauled him over to a chair. He sat down, feeling weak, but not feeling like crying, since there was no time to cry. He was a Gryffindor, and he would have to be brave throughout it, just like his brother needed to take the Slytherin way and not let anyone see his emotions. That was the way it was. He was a Gryffindor and his brother was a Slytherin. Vaguely, he heard Lee talking softly to him, but he didn't pay it much attention.

"C'mon Lee, let's get to Potions," he heard himself say, and barely registered the relief on Lee's face at hearing him talk.

"C'mon George, lets blow up some cauldrons!" Lee replied with a grin, causing a slight smile on his face. It was good to have a friend who was capable of cheering you up at times like this. Lee was his friend, but that couldn't quite fill the hole left by Fred. Only time would tell if anything could.

Lee kept up a steady stream of stories that would usually have had him rolling with laughter, and by the time they had reached potions, George was feeling marginally better.

Lee was going to kill Fred. No, that wasn't true. He was going to curse Fred until he apologized for his behavior and was their friend again. He'd seen the pained look in Fred's eye, and he knew that Fred was no evil Slytherin snake. Fred didn't want to hurt them, but that didn't mean that he hadn't, or that he wouldn't do it again. The only thing Lee knew for certain, as he recited the story about hiding his mother's knickers in the oven, was that Fred needed to be brought to his senses before anything else could happen.

Fred rushed into potions just as the bell rang, and hurried to the first open seat, which was one of two at the last open cauldron. Professor Snape cleared his throat, and started to speak, but was interrupted by Adrian Pucey slipping through the door and into the last open seat next to Fred.

"Settle down," began the greasy git that Fred had to force himself to respect as a teacher. The Gryffindors looked furious, as Snape would have taken away a hundred points and given the most vile detention he could think of to any student but one of his own that had walked in late. Fred's chest tightened as he saw Lee mutter something to George, making him smirk slightly, and Lee's eyes sparkled with mischief. Snape shot them as sharp look and took away five points for talking out of turn.

"You are here to learn the precise art of potion-making. There is to be no idiotic wand waving or incantation here, so I doubt many of you will appreciate the magic used here. I don't expect you to understand and respect the beauty of a lightly simmering cauldron with soft fumes rising from its surface. I don't expect you to appreciate the power of the liquids that creep through veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you to bottle fame, to brew glory, even how to stopper death…if you aren't as foolish as the usual idiots I have to teach." Snape recited, and Fred had a feeling that he started every first class with a similar speech, or maybe even had the general idea written on a cue card. He automatically looked to tell George his suspicions, but remembered he was sitting next to Pucey. George was on the opposite side of the room, next to Lee.

"Can anyone tell me," Snape barked, forcing Fred's attention to him, "where I would find a bezoar? Jordan!"

"I….don't know, sir," Lee said, looking surprised. George leaned in and whispered something to him. "In the stomach of a goat."

"Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley; I asked Jordan," sneered Snape. "Since you seem to be our new potions _expert_, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know sir."

"Let's try again, then. Weasley, what's the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" said Snape with a sneer.

George sat up straighter. "They're the same plant, and monkshood is used in the Wolfsbane potions, sir, and I do believe that other students should get a chance to answer some questions, sir, if it isn't too much trouble," he suggested in a completely neutral tone.

Snape took five points from Gryffindor for George's "cheek", and then set them to make a potion to cure boils.

"So, we're working together, then?" Pucey said, turning to Fred.

"I guess so, Pucey," Fred replied without emotion; he was watching George and Lee grin at some mistake Montague had obviously made.

"Weasley, friendships with Gryffindors will never work, as will ones with Hufflepuffs. Ravenclaws can be allies, but actual friendships are bound to fail. A Slytherin needs allies and family, not friendships, so go get some nettles, snake fangs, etcetera, and I'll light the fire and start."

"Sure thing, Pucey, would you like fries with that?" answered Fred, dully.

Pucey looked confused for a second, then grinned slightly and said "Sure, don't forget the sauce. And it's Adrian."

"OK, Pu…Adrian. I'm Fred, since there's a lot of Weasleys." Fred grinned slightly, and then went to go fetch the ingredients they needed.

Fred and Adrian worked for a while in relatively friendly silence, trying to ignore Snape's habit of criticizing everyone except Warrington and Montague, who he seemed to like, until a loud bang nearly made Adrian drop the porcupine quills. Spinning around, he saw that Kenneth Towler and Simon Collins had managed to explode their cauldron, or rather someone, probably Montague, had thrown a firework into their cauldron. Boils were forming over both Gryffindors, but Snape was seemingly too busy insulting them to notice. After finally yelling at them to get to the hospital wing, he rounded on George and Lee, who were sitting behind them.

"Idiots! Did you hope that letting them make _several_ obvious mistakes would make you look better? Five points from Gryffindor," Snape snarled.

Fred was about to protest when a foot hit his leg, hard, and Adrian shot him a warning look, and then muttered, "It's an unspoken rule that Slytherins respect Snape, so don't push it. He's got a nasty temper."

Fred slumped, and rubbed his throbbing leg, then turned back to the potion. At the end of the lesson, it looked like they would get a good mark. Fred seemed to have found a Slytherin "ally" in his year, but he still missed George, and even Lee. He hurried away as soon as the bell rang, barely hearing Pucey yell "See ya, Weasley!" He saw the look in his friends' eyes, and he ran with his face down and hidden so they wouldn't see the emotion there. He stuffed his lunch quickly down his tight throat, then ran to the library.

The library became his sanctuary, his place where he could work towards a purpose, the purpose of being able to defend himself, and that would in turn allow him to talk to his friends again without the three of them being hexed to death. Every moment spent in there was a moment less before he could talk to George and Lee again.

Realizing he was late for Charms, he stuffed the book into his bag and ran. He was only a few minutes late as he ran in the door, and he only lost one point. Sitting alone in the corner, he buried himself in the work; refusing to think of anything but the spell he was learning the theory on. He held the same theory through Transfiguration, and through his studies later that evening. When he crawled into bed that evening, he had learned the shield charm, the spell to shoot sparks, the fire charm, and, most importantly, the disarming curse. He was rather shaky on the shield and was improving on the disarming, but he couldn't wait any longer to talk to his friends.

Suddenly, an idea came to him; he could secretly pull his friends aside, and they could practice together. It could work—it had to work.

With the comforting thought that he would be able to talk to his friends the next day, he fell asleep to the sounds of his roommates' snores.

George lay in bed, wondering what was wrong with the Weasleys. Percy was muttering in the common room about "good-for-nothing Slytherins" and how they had no respect for authority, while giving George pointed looks. George suspected that he had written to their mother and told her about Fred's Sorting.

He hoped she wouldn't send a Howler, or he'd be sending one right back, and two to Percy.

Charlie was watching all of his brothers like cursed objects ready to go off at any second. He was softening his voice to the two Weasleys he could talk to, as though they were delicate and near breaking, but at least he didn't seem to think Fred was evil and at least he gave George some room after being snapped at and told to 'bugger off'.

Fred was the biggest wild card, though, between the fact that he was avoiding his two best friends, and the fact that he was clearly conflicted over something. He clearly cared about George and Lee, as he had opened his mouth to protest Snape's behavior, but he also seemed to be somewhat friends with the dark, grinning Slytherin named. He even seemed somewhat content around him, in comparison to the pained look on his face around them. However, George didn't know what was going through his brother's head, so he couldn't be sure of his intentions.

Suddenly, the voice that had appeared the night before spoke again. _He's your brother, it said, you know him. Does the fact that he sleeps in a different part of the castle change the fact that he is your flesh and blood, not to mention best friend? _

George sighed, knowing the voice was right, but also knowing that Fred had some explaining to do to both him and Lee. There would be a discussion between the three of them soon, and that would be the deciding factor in his decision. You could never win an argument with the resident voice in your head, he thought, vaguely amused but not particularly happy.

_Good boy, George, you use that gray matter_, said the voice. As it faded away, he heard it tell him one last thing. _You'll bring it all together, you guys will_.

Confused, but forcefully reminded of what the sorting hat told him, George decided that the sorting hat was right, and that maybe the houses weren't really that different. Deciding to talk to Fred the next day, he slipped into a restful sleep.

At The Burrow, Molly and Arthur Weasley were wondering how any son of theirs could ever be a Slytherin. The twins might be sneaky, but they were fun-loving and friendly. How one of them could be a Slytherin and one a Gryffindor, they had no idea. Percy seemed to think that George had fooled the sorting hat, which was ridiculous.

But, no matter what house the boys were in, and no matter what they did, both parents knew they would always love them. They could only hope that the other siblings felt the same.

A/N: Here is the next chapter, as promised, albeit a little late. 2 reviews for the next chapter (bringing the total up to 7), if anyone is interested.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Fred woke up at the crack of dawn and snuck out of the dormitory. The common room was empty, so he dripped some glue on a chair before leaving for the library.

_Old habits…_

In the safety of the library, he studied defensive theory for a short while before finding the small room he had been using for practice. Facing a suit of armor holding a spear, he cast a disarming spell at it. The spear flew out of the metal hand, and landed with a clatter on the ground, not three feet from the suit of armor. After a further twenty minutes of practice, Fred could now direct the spear in his general direction and have it land just short of his feet. Fred tried a summoning charm on it seven times before he finally got it to jump into his hand. It was another ten minutes before he could do it with ease.

The fire charm was a first year spell, so he only cast it three times, and all were successful in lighting a fairly large fire. Sparks, being the most basic defensive magic, did not need much practice, except for target practice, and that was only for a quarter of an hour. After that, the shield charm was attempted, although it was difficult to cast and impossible to test alone. Fred practiced it for nearly an hour, until he thought it could withstand most reasonable hexes that could be used against him by people third year and under.

Finally, he attempted the stunning spell, which was a more advanced than the others he had tried so far. He managed to knock a rat out for just under a minute after half an hour of practice, which, he decided, was quite good, considering his age. After ten more minutes of practice, he quickly reviewed his spells again, went to the Great Hall to grab a bite of toast, and then headed up to the seventh floor to head off George and Lee before they went down to breakfast.

Fred walked up to the seventh floor, and waited for George and Lee to come to him. Suddenly, he realized that he couldn't very well wait for a couple of Gryffindors in the middle of the Seventh floor, where he was likely to be ambushed by the other Gryffindors or confronted by one of his other two brothers. He began pacing, wondering where he could talk to them alone, since he didn't think Flitwick would let them take over his office.

_I need somewhere safe to talk to my friends, somewhere we won't be found or overheard. I need somewhere _

Suddenly, Fred saw a door appear in the middle of a blank wall.

...

George was woken up earlier than he would have liked by Lee, who suggested that they get to breakfast so that they didn't have to rush and eat. The real reason, they knew, was so they could see Fred come in, and get a good look at how he looked when he did.

They grabbed their stuff and hurried out of the Gryffindor Tower, intending to . However, their plan was interrupted when a hand seized each of them by the back of the robes and hauled them through what appeared to be a blank wall. The second the hands released them, they spun around to see that their assailant was a strained-looking redhead with a nervous grin. Fred.

"Fred?" George demanded, with a disbelieving look that was mirrored by Lee. "Where the _bloody hell_ have you been and what the _bloody hell_ is going on?"

Fred looked like he wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground. The normally vocal prankster just looked at his feet and tried to get his voice to work. Finally, he choked out "Sorry…I…I…" before swallowing and attempting to answer George's question.

"Well, where I've been is the easier one to answer." Fred said with a slight smile, "I've been at Hogwarts, mainly in classes, and spending the time after curfew in the Slytherin dorm and common room, but I've mostly spent time in the library, learning defense, since Slytherins aren't supposed to talk to Gryffindors and I could find myself spewing slugs if I don't watch my back, and the same could happen to you. You'll need to be more specific for the second question, but I'll say that I screwed up."

"Well, you could tell us the whole story from the Sorting, on," Lee suggested. "The beginning is usually a good place to start."

"The hat told me I didn't belong in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but it said that Gryffindor and Slytherin were both good options," Fred said with a sigh. "I freaked out at the word 'Slytherin', and demanded it put me in Gryffindor, but when it didn't immediately yell 'Gryffindor', I panicked and threatened to transfigure it into a pair of underpants and give it to Snape."

George and Lee cracked up, causing Fred to grin embarrassedly before continuing.

"Well, the Hat found that a rather Slytherin comment, so it put me in Slytherin. I spent the rest of the evening moping until Adrian Pucey told me I should get some sleep and not associate with Gryffindors unless I wanted the rest of Slytherin to kill me for ruining their rep. So I decided to learn defense before making amends with you guys. I'm sorry about how I reacted in the library; I couldn't let us be seen together, so I just ran like hell. I was protecting all of us. I partnered with Pucey in Potions because he's the only Slytherin that doesn't seem to hate me. He's an okay guy, I guess. He stopped me from really screwing myself over by yelling at Snape for you, and it wasn't really his fault Snape hates Gryffindors.

I know I said I meant to avoid you until I could fight better, but I decided that the rest of Slytherin can go to hell. I can hold my own against the first years and, if I waited any longer to talk to you, it might be too late to repair the damage between us."

"Fred," George began, looking serious, "nothing you say is really going to change anything, now."

Fred looked uncharacteristically nervous when he stared at his twin. Suddenly, George broke into a wide grin, and wrapped one arm around his brother.

"Bloody hell, Fred, you're still my brother, twin, and partner in crime, no matter what house you're in, but now there are three of us." George laughed, and then he suddenly turned serious, "Fred, there was one thing I forgot to tell you, that I really should have before…"

Fred looked curious, and slightly nervous, but was still clearly elated. Whatever it was, it couldn't be worse than being unable to talk to each other.

"Fred…you really are long-winded."

True to their nature, the trio decided to celebrate with pranks. Certain toilets shot geysers of water whenever someone sat down, cups that spilled their contents on their drinkers, underwear was thrown out windows, and messages were magicked onto various students' clothes.

It was, overall, a day to remember.

...

With the end of September came flying lessons, which were particularly tricky for the three friends, as the classes paired Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Neither Weasley twin had flown without the other for years, and it would be a bit awkward. It would also be difficult, as they had to pretend to have drifted apart, and were not able to joke around. This was less of an issue for Lee, as he had only been friends with the twins for less than a month, but he had still grown rather close to them, having bonded over difficult times. It was decided that Fred was to hang out with Adrian Pucey, while George and Lee worked together, which gave everyone a friend, or ally, to partner with.

"Good weather, isn't it, Weasley?" Pucey asked, walking up to Fred just before the first flying lesson. When working in large groups without another Weasley, they went by last names, but when working alone or in a group with more than one Weasley, they went by first names. Fred wasn't quite used to calling him "Adrian", but he trusted him more than any other Slytherin.

On the other hand, that was like saying something was less magical than a dragon; it didn't say much at all.

"Yeah, really good conditions for flying," Fred agreed, grinning, "Talking about the weather, now, are we?"

"Yeah, well I like flying." Pucey grinned. "I play Chaser, or at least I've practiced for it. It's a pity first years can't be on the house team. Do you play?"

"Yeah, I play beater," Fred replied. "You know, the guys who get to hit things at people using really big sticks. Or just hit people."

They both laughed, and turned to pay attention to Madam Hooch, the flying instructor. Or, at least, Fred pretended to, but snuck a peek at his two best friends, who were laughing at far-fetched Quidditch stories.

"Okay, everyone, listen up!" Madam Hooch shouted. "These lessons are not to be treated as down time, and you _will_ pay attention. We are going to be learning how to fly on broomsticks."

At this, several students smirked or sneered, clearly thinking that they didn't need these lessons. A few began to snicker to themselves, and Madam Hooch glared at them, looking distinctly hawk-like. Most of the students stopped laughing.

"Well, come on everyone. Stand to the left of your broomstick, hold your right hand over it, and say "Up!""

"Up!" twenty voices shouted, but only a few brooms jumped immediately into the person's hand. Fred, George, Pucey, and a black Gryffindor girl named Angelina Johnson were the only ones to manage it the first time. A few seconds later, Lee, Warrington, Montague, and another Gryffindor girl named Alicia Spinnet joined them. Many people's brooms were just rolling around, and some had barely moved.

"With force, everyone!" called Madam Hooch, "Be _clear_ and _confident_."

When everyone's brooms had finally jumped into their hands, which took quite some time, she showed them how to mount their brooms without falling off. She then proceeded to go around, correcting their grips. Again, the same group of people, along with Alicia Spinnet, had it right immediately. Lee quickly caught on with George's help, but Madam Hooch told both Warrington and Montague that they had it completely wrong.

"On my whistle, you will push off hard, and hover for a few seconds," commanded Madam Hooch, "Keep your brooms steady, and rise no more than a few feet. Next, you will lean forward slightly, and come straight back down."

The whistle blasted, and everyone pushed off the ground. Many people looked rather unsteady, but those who had flown before looked more comfortable in varying degrees. After a few seconds, they touched down with expressions from joy, to relief, to disappointment. Kenneth Towler, however, was rising slowly higher, unable to get back down.

"Mr. Towler, get back down here this instant!" Madam Hooch shouted at Kenneth, but it was painfully obvious that that method wasn't going to work. His broom was now drifting towards the wall of the school. His face was deathly pale, and he seemed to be beyond coherent thought.

"Kenneth, lean forward slightly!" Lee yelled, as George yelled "Wake up and lean forward, you stupid git!"

While George and Lee chased after Kenneth with their wands and brooms, Fred snuck a glance at the other Slytherins, and saw a variety of reactions. Warrington, Montague and Monica Dames were all smirking, while Tamerra Bollard had a coolly amused expression on her face. The only two Slytherins who didn't outright show amusement were Cynthia Oswell, who looked mildly fearful, and Pucey, who showed no emotion. It didn't look like any of them would be rushing to save anyone.

Just as that thought was going through Fred's mind, Kenneth Towler slipped off the front of his broom, and began to fall towards the ground.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" George and Lee yelled simultaneously. Kenneth slowed down, and stopped in mid air. George motioned for Lee to get Kenneth, since Lee was usually the first to tire out. Lee jumped on his broom, and flew relatively steadily over to Kenneth, who promptly grabbed him in a vice grip.

"Ow, watch it, mate!" Lee yelled, fighting to keep his broom under control. He managed to pull the shaking boy onto his broom before George's spell broke, and both Gryffindors landed rather clumsily on the ground. The Gryffindors cheered, while the Slytherins scowled, and all was normal in the world.

The flying lesson continued without further mishap, but Kenneth Towler refused to get further than ten feet off the ground. There was some improvement made by some of the people who did not fly regularly, but all the real flyers learned was that the school brooms weren't worth bullocks.

...

By Halloween, things seemed to be perfectly normal at Hogwarts. Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors had friends amongst themselves, while Slytherins only had allies amongst themselves and the occasional Ravenclaw they tolerated. Pranks were being pulled, but the perpetrators were never caught. However, Dumbledore had a knowing glint in his eyes, and there was much speculation and suspicion. The most common theory was that there were two groups between third and fifth year having a prank war, based on the level of magic being used and the fact that everybody was a target. However, most Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws suspected Slytherin, while Slytherins suspected Gryffindors. The pranks were mostly just inconvenient or a bit embarrassing, though, so nobody thought to check if there was a pattern or goal.

The Mystery Room became the unofficial (since they couldn't be official) meeting place of the "Lessons Club", as the twins and Lee had begun to call themselves. The name had a double meaning: firstly, the club taught people who deserved it a lesson through pranks, and secondly that they learned defense as a group.

It was also the most uninteresting, low-key name they could think of on short notice.

Their pranks were made to seem random, but were actually used to punish people for offences such as picking on students they had taken a liking to, being hypocrites, and other minor offences, but it was never used for direct revenge for wrongs against one of them until the wronged party had an alibi at the time of the prank. Pranks were also pulled in the name of fun and entertainment, but never for the sake of cruelty.

The Mystery Room was also used for studying, since it was a safe place that catered to their needs, and for combat practice. But, most of all, it was a place where friends could meet, a place where the rules, both official and unofficial, didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was friendship, and, of course, the next joke.

Both George and Lee looked up as someone walked through the wall of the Mystery Room. The person, who was wearing a hood that obscured his face placed a small pile of books on the table, then lowered his hood.

"Hey, guys."

"Fred!" exclaimed Lee, "Don't scare us like that. It could have been Montague for all we knew!"

"Well, I can't just come prancing up to the seventh floor. There's no reason for a Slytherin to be on the seventh floor, unless they are either looking for a Gryffindor or visiting Flitwick, and I'm not visiting Flitwick daily."

"I don't see why we have to keep this secret from everyone, you know?" Lee grumbled. "Your brothers would understand, and I don't think many of the Gryffindors would tell the Slytherins."

"Well, you don't really know Percy, now do you?" George said casually, but his smile was slightly ironic. "He'd do anything to keep himself from being associated with a Slytherin, and he's about as discreet as a banshee in a library. The whole school would know in days, if some of those girls got wind of it, anyways."

"And they wouldn't have to tell a Slytherin," Fred added. "A Gryffindor could tell a Ravenclaw that they trust, who might tell a friend, who might tell a Slytherin. Ravenclaws don't mind Slytherins as much as the rest of the school."

"I surrender. Don't shoot!" Lee said sarcastically, but seeing the twins' confused expressions, he explained; "It's a muggle phrase, kind of like 'don't kill me.' Muggles have these things called guns that shoot a metal chunk called a bullet into someone's body, injuring them. To work it, you pull the trigger and that's called shooting the gun. I'm half-blood, you see, since my mom was muggle-born, and she made me go to a muggle school before Hogwarts."

"Cool," George said.

"Well, we probably could let ourselves be seen together during Christmas break, then it will get around by word of mouth. We should have learned enough self-defense by then," suggested Fred.

The others quickly agreed; as exciting as sneaking around the school was at first, it was getting to be a pain.

The trio continued to practice both extra defensive magic and spells they had learned in class. Lee was best at spells that required finesse and control, like levitation charms and spells to change colours, as well as creative jinxes. Fred's talents lay in the area of more serious hexes, like stunners and _incendio_, offensive spells relying on sheer power. George, was a combination between the two, being talented at both, but was best with defensive magic like the shield, and was particularly good with the curse of bogeys. Still, all three boys were magically talented and had sharp minds; they managed to get good grades without trying very hard.

"Hey, Weasley and Weasley!" Lee said, distracting George enough to let Fred's jelly-legs jinx break through his shield. Both were working with their strengths, with Fred practicing jinxes and George working on his shield. Neither could manage the more advanced spells without nearly complete focus. "We should get into the Halloween spirit and pull some festive pranks. I'm all for turning Snape's robe into a bat costume at the feast."

"That's advanced magic, though," Fred pointed out. "We haven't learned that yet."

"Oh, ye of little faith!" George said with a laugh. "We can do this. It'll just take practice."

"If we do it during the feast, we are more likely to be caught," Fred argued.

"It's worth it," Lee said. "C'mon guys!"

"I can't be caught by my head of house." Fred sighed, and then nodded. "We'll need to frame someone else, or at least hide all the evidence. And we should make it time delayed, set to react to something."

George and Lee grinned.

"We knew you'd come around."

The planning went smoothly from there on, and it was a matter of minutes before they had the plan. With the plan together, they hit the books to find the spell.

"Got it!" Lee declared triumphantly. "The incantation is _vestitus lamia_ and the wand movement is a swish-and-flick. It turns his clothes into bat ones."

"Good," Fred acknowledged, "now all we have left is the…"

"Got it!" George cried, in a tone similar to Lee's, "first you say _coepi_, then you say the incantation, while tapping the trigger with your wand. To keep the spell from taking effect immediately on the clothes, you instead use the incantation _prodico_, then the original spell."

"Okay," Fred said, "we use _prodico vestitus lamia_ on Snape's robes, and _coepi vestitus lamia_ on his chair. After, we go and practice the spells we are supposed to be doing for class, and only those spells. Do _not_ do any other magic."

"Two things, oh brother of mine," George said with a slight grin. "Firstly, when you say 'we', does that mean that you're in, and are okay with doing some of the magic? And secondly, why practice class spells, but no other magic?"

"Firstly, oh gits I hang out with," Fred replied, causing the other two to grin, "I wouldn't miss this for a Philosopher's Stone. Secondly, we need to do other spells to cover up the fact that our wands were used for the prank. I heard some of my older housemates mention that the last spells our wands performed can be checked, and we want them to show that we've been doing nothing other than magic for class; it'd look mighty suspicious if two Gryffindors and a Slytherin are doing the same advanced magic."

"No way. They can't really check our wands, can they?" Lee asked. "Are you just being a paranoid Slytherin git again?"

"Oh, yes, they can," Fred said, grinning slightly at Lee's remark, "and I wouldn't put it past Snape to actually do it. Many of the older Slytherins learn to cover up the dark spells they do, and I've seen them at it. Trust me, or we can just use _Wingardium Leviosa_ on Snape's underwear, and leave it at that."

"That's too scary for Halloween with the ickle firsties," George said casually.

"Yeah, we don't want a pair of frilly knickers hanging from the ceiling," Lee deadpanned.

Grinning, the three friends divvied up the tasks and split up to do their jobs.

...

"George, can I talk to you for a minute, please?"

The voice carried across the cozy Gryffindor common room, despite the low volume of the voice. George turned and found himself looking at his big brother, Charlie. Charlie was wearing a carefully blank expression, and that was enough to put them on their guard.

George and Lee looked at each other and shrugged, then started to walk towards Charlie. The older Weasley looked at Lee in a way that suggested that this was supposed to be a family discussion, but George caught Lee by the sleeve and pulled him over to the small group of three chairs in the corner, his eyes challenging his brother to try to stop them.

"George, I'm worried," Charlie admitted. "Mum and Dad are worried about you guys, because you and Fred replied to her letter separately. You guys used to do everything together, but now you are clearly two different people."

"Charlie, we were _always_ two separate people. Despite the fact that we _looked_ identical and were very good friends, we were always two people, very similar but never the same. You guys never got that."

Charlie winced. "George, what I mean is…you guys are drifting apart. We all are. Percy thinks that you are both evil Slytherin gits, just waiting to ruin everything. When I told him off, he told me that you guys were using me, but I haven't even spoken to you overly much, much less helped you with much."

"Yeah, well, that last bit might be part of the problem, Charles," Lee said.

"Charlie," George said calmly, "your opinion may be more accurate than Percy's but that's like saying you've got more brains than a flobberworm. Lee's right; all you've done is watch. People aren't always what they seem, and they always change. There are some unspoken rules here that you don't seem to have picked up on: Gryffindors don't associate with Slytherins, and Slytherins only associate with their own, plus the occasional Ravenclaw. 'Slytherin' doesn't equal 'misguided Gryffindor'. Fred may be my brother, but so's Percy, and he thinks we're dark lords in miniature."

"Since when have you cared about rules?"

"Since when have you encouraged us to break them? Look, there are rules set by stuffy old geezers that try to spoil our fun, and then there are rules. Since when have you wanted us dead?"

"Where have you been, anyways?" Charlie asked, sounding slightly desperate. He was acting not just as himself, but as their mum's representative at Hogwarts. Talking to Percy must have gone badly, and now he was trying George. "How are you?"

"I've been studying with Lee, Charlie. If we want to get a good job or not get chucked off the Quidditch team when I play Beater next year, I need to do well in school. I'm getting good grades, I'm doing well. Shouldn't you be happy?" George played the guilt card, feeling distinctly Slytherin but not too sorry about it.

"I am!" Charlie exclaimed quickly, "I really am, and Mum will be, too. Percy'll come around, don't worry. You guys take care."

Charlie left, looking slightly lost, but Lee's look was one of slight satisfaction.

"Good one with the guilt card, George. We're going to need another approach as a backup for the future, though."

"I know," George said with a grin, "but for now, we need to practice our transfigurations, then we'll work on the levitation spell."

...

As they practiced, two heads of read hair peeked out at them. Percy, looking over his book, wondered what they were up to; they never used to show any signs of concern over what other people thought, much less the future.

Charlie, on the other hand, felt nothing but pride for his younger brother and Lee, because they were doing so well. There was a hint of confusion when he realized that he had been put on the defensive, but perhaps that had been because he hadn't a leg to stand on; they really were doing alright—even better than alright, all things considered. Perhaps everything would turn out after all.

...

The Great Hall looked fantastic, and it fit the occasion perfectly. Carved pumpkins with candles in them floated in mid air, shedding a soft orange glow on the tables below. Between the pumpkins, flew live bats, filling the air with sounds of flapping wings. The ceiling showed gray, stormy looking clouds over an indigo sky, and a nearly full moon, bathing the dark corners of the room in pale, cold light. On the tables, golden plates shimmered slightly in the soft light, and the shadows of the bats slid along the table. Students started trickling in, and amongst them were two redheaded twins and a black boy with dreadlocks. As the last students slipped through the door, Dumbledore stood up, bid them a happy Halloween, and sat down again. Immediately, the plates filled with food, and conversations broke out again.

"Lee, this is great," George whispered. "Snape's going to come in with everyone here. People will now have a chance to see his hidden side."

Lee bit back a laugh. "I hope he actually shows up. I mean, what if he doesn't?"

As if right on cue, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and Snape strode in, robes billowing behind him.

"I don't know, George," Lee whispered, "but perhaps all our work was for nothing; he already looks like a bat."

Barely anyone looked up as Snape strode up to the elevated platform where the teachers all sat. He muttered something to Dumbledore, then turned and walked towards his own seat. Three students watched covertly and with bated breath, waiting for their least favourite professor to sit down.

There was a soft pop as Snape sat down, and he immediately jumped back up, knocking over his chair and nearly falling over. But, instead of a giant bat costume, he wore only a pair of graying underwear, leaving his pasty limbs and torso exposed. A small, black bat that used to be his robes flapped away from him to join the other bats. The Hall fell silent, but the silence was shortly broken by a small Hufflepuff first-year starting to snicker, and suddenly the whole Hall broke out laughing. Even most of the Slytherins were laughing, and the rest were holding their breath or burying their heads in their hands.

"Silence!" Snape yelled, clutching his left arm to his chest and brandishing his wand in the other. He summoned his bat back and turned it back into a pair of robes with a jab of his wand. "When I find out who did this, I will see to it that they are expelled!"

The whole Hall was too busy laughing to listen. If anything, they laughed even harder. Nobody noticed the third year Gryffindor recording the whole thing with a pair of Omnioculars. However, by the end of the week, many magical copies of the recording were circulating the school.

Nobody noticed Dumbledore and McGonagall sharing a concerned look, and it would only be much, much later that the twins and Lee would look more closely at the recording and at the "birthmark" on Snape's forearm.

End chapter

_A/N: This is scary; if I get any more reviews, I might seriously be forced to actually look at, edit, even work on this story again. Like I've said, I've actually got a fair bit written, but there was practically no interest so I stopped working on it. I haven't actually written anything for it in ages, but if you keep reviewing... (looks around nervously) Don't you guys do that to me. Don't you dare._


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